


To Speak Once More

by TheDarkivist



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Crime Scenes, Death, Gavin Reed Being Less of an Asshole, Gavin Reed is Bad at Feelings, Horror, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Slowburn but every time Gavin pines it gets faster
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:54:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24490867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarkivist/pseuds/TheDarkivist
Summary: When Connor and Gavin come across the worst trespasser in history, they have no idea how strange their newest adventure will get. How can a dead man walk? Are fries worth dying for? Is there a chance Gavin's feelings aren't one-sided?
Relationships: Connor/Gavin Reed
Comments: 23
Kudos: 50





	1. To Hold for the First Time

**Author's Note:**

> Hello ♥ I bring you a new case fic, and I hope you'll enjoy it. Come say hi to me on  tumblr !
> 
> (This fic is related to Too Close to Home - both can be read separately, but if you're curious about how Connor and Gavin got to this point in their relationship, you might like to check it out!)

Gavin wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. If anyone asked, he wasn’t staring at Connor’s hand as they walked down the quiet street, no, he just… hell, they spent the afternoon hanging out, it’d be weirder to avoid looking at him. Their hands were already so close that reaching out to grab Connor’s would be the easiest thing in the world, but the mere idea of it was enough to send his heart racing. Things had gotten better between them. Smoother. Good enough that several people at work commented on it, though not one of them mentioned it twice. Gavin saw to that. The issue was that he couldn’t tell if they’d reached the point where he could simply take Connor’s hand for no other reason than that he wanted to hold it. And he wanted to. Badly.

He stuck his hands in his pockets, the scowl on his face deepening. Even the mild May evening mocked him with the sweetness in the air and the fading pinks and oranges of the sunset. It was an evening to fall in love and he’d waste it, let it slip through his fingers, because he couldn’t gather the courage to make his feelings known. Maybe that was the smartest decision. Maybe Connor didn’t feel the same. Maybe he’d laugh in his face. Or worse – maybe he’d give him a tight, polite smile and kindly explain that Gavin’s attraction was one-sided. There would be no going back from that.

The neighbourhood they found themselves in had become fashionable (read: too expensive for its original residents) a couple of years ago and Gavin felt like a tourist there. Not one of his usual haunts, but he suggested they walk to a bus stop farther away since the night was young and the weather nice. Also, because he wanted to stay with Connor for as long as possible, though of course he didn’t mention that. The android agreed with a smile that did horrible things to his blood pressure.

“Detective?” Connor spoke up, then corrected himself. “Gavin?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you all right? You’ve gone quiet.”

Gavin rubbed the back of his neck, looking away. Probably not the moment to admit he’d been thinking about how Connor’s hand might feel in his for the past few minutes, especially since before his mind took that turn they were discussing a new model of taser Connor had come across in one of his and Hank’s cases. Speaking of Hank, now he also had to wonder if Anderson even knew who his precious android son spent most of the day with.

“I’m not quiet, I’m cool and mysterious,” he joked.

“Thank you, I’m afraid I’d fail to notice if you didn’t inform me,” Connor replied, holding back laughter. Then he cleared his throat and adjusted the collar of the sky blue jacket he wore over a white t-shirt tucked into black chinos. “I believe there’s a café nearby. It’s still rather early, would you like to…” Suddenly, he fell silent, staring straight ahead as he quickened his pace. “That’s weird.”

Gavin squinted, mourning the fact that now he might never know what Connor wanted to say, until he saw it too – a figure in a denim shirt trying to climb over a low fence that belonged to a two-floor pastel pink house with an unkempt front garden split into two equally messy halves by a white gravel path leading to the front door. Though the fence wasn’t high, the person struggled.

“First time breaking and entering?” he called out, removing his hands from his pockets in case he had to run after them. The person stopped trying to scramble up the fence immediately.

“Oh gosh, can you tell?” she replied, a little too blasé considering the situation. “Give a girl a hand?”

Instead of a reply, Connor flashed her his badge, which seemed to cool her enthusiasm for break-ins somewhat. Gavin crossed his arms over his chest and looked the woman up and down. A bottle brunette around his height. Late twenties, maybe early thirties.

“Care to explain what you’re doing here, miss...?” he asked sharply.

She blinked, then offered them a self-conscious smile. “Endo. Grace Endo.” A beat. “It’s not what it looks like. I live across the street,” she said and pointed behind herself with her thumb, to a mint-green two-storey house. “I mostly work from home, and my room overlooks the street, so I have a pretty all right idea about the regulars here, okay? Caroline, that’s the woman who lives here, goes for a run every morning. Other than that, she doesn’t seem to have much of a regular schedule, but I usually see her once or twice a day when she’s going out, getting mail and stuff. Except I haven’t seen her for at least a week now. There’s an android living with her, but I haven’t seen him around either.” Grace paused to take a breath and Gavin was genuinely impressed she’d lasted that long without. Then she made a vague gesture towards the mailbox. Junk mail and magazines sealed in plastic were already spilling out on the pavement. “First I thought she’s just on a vacation or something, but nobody’s been getting her mail, so I thought I’d peek in and see if everything’s okay. Trying to use my nosy bitch powers for good, y’know?”

The two detectives exchanged a look. “We shouldn’t be entering private property without a serious reason,” Connor mused. He was adorable. Some other detectives would already swear they could hear gunshots coming from inside the house.

“I don’t know, I felt like doing something stupid today. Might as well be this.” Gavin tried the gate, and he himself was surprised when it opened. “Can you imagine? Someone left the gate open,” he announced loudly, rolling his eyes. “Let’s take a look around the house and see if there’s anything going on. Ms Endo, you should go home, it’s probably nothing serious.”

“I suppose...” she said slowly, casting an anxious glance at her neighbour’s door. Then she winked at Connor. “Do you want my contact info?”

“Why?” the android blurted out. “I mean, that won’t be necessary. We know where to find you.”

“Well, if-” Then she saw the look on Gavin’s face and left the sentence unfinished. He wasn’t glaring daggers at her, no. He was glaring the entire armoury. Connor noticed it too, though he chalked it up to detective Reed’s reluctance to waste time with chitchat. It worked. Ms Endo did comply and soon they were alone, again.

Gavin went in first, but then Connor put a surprisingly warm hand on his shoulder to stop him. He glanced back – the android detective didn’t say anything at first, but his eyes were alert, his lips drawn into a tight line. “There’s something there.”

“The fuck you talking about?” he asked, as he himself didn’t see anything save for the quiet house and the white gravel path.

Connor moved his hand, and walked further down the path, then hunkered down and grabbed a fistful of gravel. Without a word of warning, he popped one of the limestone fragments into his mouth. Their eyes met. Gavin cringed, looking away as the android spat it out again. “Traces of blood belonging to Caroline Marsh.” When the other didn’t react, he tilted his head to the side. “Are you all right?”

“Christ, give me a warning the next time you do that.”

The android blinked slowly, his LED yellow as he was trying to figure out what the other was on about. Then it hit him. “This again?” Connor shook his head. “Don’t worry, detective. I wasn’t actually going to swallow, so I don’t think it counts.”

“The jury’s still out on that.” Staying off the path, Gavin walked up to the front door, knocked at the door, and waited. Nothing. After a minute passed, he tried the doorknob. Unlocked. The fine hairs on the back of his neck were standing up, his body tense with anticipation when he entered the silent place. Connor turned his recording functions on, and followed.

Gavin’s right hand was already reaching for the gun in his back pocket holster. He didn’t think he’d need it, but better safe than dead.

“You brought a gun to the zoo?”

“You brought your badge,” he whispered back. “Wait, you mean you didn’t bring yours? Christ, _Connor_.”

“No, I did bring it. Nines insisted I might need protection with me.”

That gave Gavin a pause. Then the words truly set in and he felt an emotion between rage and horror. “This is why nobody fucking likes him.”

Connor huffed and he almost sounded offended. “I like him.”

“Yeah, but you hang out with me too. You’ve got no standards.” Not a complaint. If Gavin ever bothered to use any of the gratitude journals his family kept passive-aggressively gifting him, Connor’s willingness to put up with his bullshit would be on top of every single page. “Now, where are all the light switches?”

“You shouldn’t be touching anything,” Connor reminded him, but quickly found a switch himself and the entry lit up.

Everything looked perfectly ordinary – wooden floors, tacky yellow wallpaper and a staircase leading to the floor above. An overflowing shoe rack, a coat-stand loaded with brightly coloured jackets, a mirror, and several bloody handprints on the white stair railing.

“Well, shit.”

They went upstairs – nothing seemed amiss there either, save for the overpoweringly sweet smell in the air that hung heaviest around a closed door on their right side. A familiar smell. Connor opened that door and peeped in, then closed it again.

“So?”

“One person. Dead. I’m calling the DPD. You should stay out until crime scene investigators get here, so you don’t contaminate the scene.”

“Wow, rude, I showered today.”

“Detective, contamination of the scene-”

“That was a _joke_.” Gavin held out his hand and tried to look more nonchalant than he truly felt. “You coming with?”

No sooner had he said that than a clock somewhere downstairs struck seven, followed immediately by the sound of a door opening somewhere. Gavin grabbed his gun and crept downstairs with Connor in tow. Through the rungs of the railing, they saw an AP700 housekeeping model dressed in a crumpled yellow shirt and faded jeans. His blond hair fell into his face in such a way that Connor couldn’t see his LED.

“Freeze!” Gavin called out, his gun at the ready. The stranger didn’t react, didn’t even acknowledge their presence, and disappeared in one of the rooms in the back of the house. They pursued him into an unlit kitchen. There was a stench there too, though different from the sickly sweet smell of the decomposing corpse upstairs. Connor turned the lights on, which didn’t elicit any response from the android either. He was cooking, and didn’t pay any mind to the dining table buried under plates laden with food in various stages of decay.

Gavin bristled up. “Hey, are you ignoring me, you piece of-”

The android turned around, a sad meal arranged on a chopping board instead of a plate.He set the dinner down on top of the pile, but it slid down immediately and unidentifiable brown sauce splattered his feet. Then Connor saw two things. First, brownish red stains on the hem of the unknown android’s shirt, and then, his LED. It wasn’t blue, or yellow, or red. The light was entirely extinguished.

Connor stepped back. He’d never seen anything like that before, not on a living android. He felt as if somebody plunged him into icy water. His throat felt tight. By the corner of his eye he saw Gavin lower his weapon and without thinking, Connor grabbed his hand, desperate to touch something solid, just to confirm that what he was seeing was real. And solid, the hand was. Solid and warm. He wouldn’t be able to tell when he started to associate those qualities with comfort, but he was grateful for what little of that he had at hand. Literally. Gavin gave his fingers a light squeeze. ‘You’re not alone’, the touch seemed to sayand it helped him to process things a little more clearly. Still not great, but better.

“What the fuck is that?” the human whispered under his breath. “Is he alive?”

That was… a question. Connor could say yes or he could say no, but neither seemed to encompass the entirety of it. The stranger was dead, but he was moving. He moved, but he wasn’t alive. He had no business wandering around in that state. Dead. Alive. Dead. Alive. Dead. Alive. The thought swirled in his head, creating echoes,making less and less sense with every turn. He felt Gavin’s fingers entwine with his as the human detective watched him, waiting for Connor to answer.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what to tell you.”

“It’s a yes or no question, Connor.”

The android dropped his hand and crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s not a yes or no answer, _detective_. The phenomenon we are looking at shouldn’t be possible.”

Gavin flexed his fingers, the echo of Connor’s touch lingering on his skin, seeping in. Not the way he imagined it’d happen, not the way he wanted it to happen, but then again, the easy way had never been his way. It was funny like a broken neck. Less than two years ago, Gavin didn’t believe androids could feel, but now he couldn’t even imagine the emotions his… friend? crush? Connor could be going through. And it sucked not knowing what to do.

The stillness of the moment was shattered by the blaring of police sirens, coming closer, always closer.

The cavalry was there.

  
  



	2. Eric

The house and the garden around were buzzing with criminal scene investigators in their white overalls. Gavin noted a couple of familiar faces upon their arrival, but once they had their gear on, he struggled to tell them apart. They showed up to pick the crime scene clean, until not even the bones remained.

The detectives were in front of the house, waiting to be allowed back inside. Gavin could already see a few neighbours trying to figure out why they were there, though nobody was stupid enough to try sneaking in. Yet. Hank showed up soon after the CSI. The scowl that crossed his face when he saw Gavin there warmed the detective’s heart. It was nice to know he could still make an impression.

“The fuck is Reed doing here?” he demanded to know. The question was aimed at Connor, the tone of it at Gavin. The android glanced at the detective by his side, his cheeks flushed the faintest shade of blue. So his assumption was correct. Hank had no idea with whom his son was spending the day. All things considered, Connor choosing to keep that a secret was… perfectly reasonable, but it stung anyway.

“I was in the area, no need to clutch your pearls ‘bout it,” he said, running his hand through his hair. Technically not a lie, just slightly edited truth. “Is Alleyn coming?”

Alleyn was their domesticated pathologist, only a year or two older than coal. Slow, but thorough, with the voice of everyone’s grandpa and the political opinions to match. Hank shook his head, his expression grim.

“Vega,” was all he said. “Be nice.”

Gavin rolled his eyes. They all knew though that Hank’s remark wasn’t entirely out of place, because he hated dealing with the android pathologist. Not because Vega was an android, no, and he’d repeat that as many times as needed. It had more to do with who Vega, as a person.

“I’m a fucking delight, Anderson. You could learn a thing or two from me.”

  
  


  
  


* * *

  
  


  
  


When they were allowed to go inside, it was business as usual. Or at least it would be, wasn’t it for the nameless android. He kept wandering around the house, trying to open doors that were already open, getting in everyone’s way until Hank lost his temper, grabbed him by the elbow and dragged him outside. Once out of the house, the android went still, just staring ahead with unseeing eyes. His presence unsettled even the most hardened of investigators, but nobody reacted to it as strongly as Connor did.

It made sense. Gavin wouldn’t be comfortable around a zombie either.

He finally got a good look at the scene where they found the body. The smell clogged his airways and he could tell it’d take a damn long shower to make it stop clinging to him. Judging by the bloody handprints on the railing, Caroline Marsh had already been injured when she went upstairs, which puzzled the two detectives and the lieutenant equally. Just what was she trying to achieve?

The room was plain, minimalist even, that kind rich people were awfully fond of. White carpets, white walls, a white armchair with a beige cushion as a pop of colour, a large white desk and a white office chair. Empty. Empty. Empty. Something about it struck Gavin as familiar. So did the victim’s name.

The corpse was lying on the white carpet face down, one arm outstretched in the direction of the desk, and doctor Vega above her, examining the body. Even in the standard gear, she was easily recognisable, simply by the virtue of her stature – she’d have to be a couple of inches taller to be _just_ short. When she spotted them, her eyes lit up. Literally. For a short time after the Revolution, there were zero regulations when it came to how androids could modify themselves, and before the legislation caught up, some individuals, like Vega, got a little carried away.

Gavin stuck his hands in his pockets and stood next to her, looking down at the corpse. Those, generally speaking, don’t age like fine wine. “Cause of death?” he asked in lieu of a greeting.

“Can’t tell, I just got here. Death by dying, if I had to take an educated guess.” She spoke with a crisp RP accent and her voice has a strange, static-like quality to it, as if her voice modulator didn’t work right. Connor could get the same way when he laughed or when he got overwhelmed, but in his case it was endearing. Then again, Connor lacked those ‘ghost of a murdered Victorian child’ vibes.

Speaking of Connor, he squatted next to the other android, looking over the dead body. “Please, what can you tell us about the victim right now?”

“I need to run a couple of tests, but it looks like they’ve been here for roughly ten days. The cause of death appears to be blunt force trauma, but that’s the best I can give you until I do the autopsy. The guys found an iron-cast pan in the bath, so that could be the murder weapon you’re looking for.”

“Shouldn’t there be more blood?” Connor asked, his head tilted to the side, listening intently. “We have reasons to believe the attack took place elsewhere.”

“Certainly. But you’d have to use black light to see it,” doctor Vega replied, tapping her left eye. “Somebody cleaned up some of the mess, and I don’t think it was the victim. They didn’t do a very good job though.There are traces all over the stairs, and the hallway. Maybe the kitchen too, but you’ll have to ask the team working there. It’s plausible, considering what we know. Head wounds bleed a lot and it’d be in line with the likely murder weapon.”

“Thank you,” Connor said, and straightened up. He was about to check the rest of the room for clues, when something crunched under his foot. He bent down and picked up a pale pink bead. Looking around, he found several more and detective Reed wordlessly handed him an evidence bag. Connor made a mental note to talk to him privately later and apologise for how he grabbed his hand when they found the undead android.

He dropped the bead in, clearly labelled the evidence bag and gave it to one of the investigators walking around, then continued his search. On the desk, there was a cordless mouse, a charger, and a headset, but no computer.

“Hank?” he called out. “Has anyone seen a computer around here? Or the victim’s phone?”

Hank gave him one of those ‘how the fuck should I know’ looks, but there wasn’t any venom in it, and he could see him leave the room to ask around, which Connor was grateful for. When in ‘focus mode’, as the lieutenant called it, it could be a hassle to talk to humans. Like reading a text in one language while speaking in another one at the same time. He was able do it, but that energy was better spent elsewhere. That being said, nobody was surprised more than the android himself when he found out he enjoyed talking detective Reed through his investigative process that one time they had to work together.

Hank returned and told him there weren’t and phones or computers anywhere in the house, though the exact wording registered only marginally.

“Anderson?” doctor Vega said out of nowhere.

“Yes?” Connor and Hank replied simultaneously.”

“I mean the cute- never mind. Reed? The victim was clutching this,” she announced, holding out a piece of glossy yellow paper – torn, and badly stained, but Gavin could still make out a part of an address and a hastily scrawled note that only said ‘extra fries’.

“Finally getting somewhere,” he said, but when he reached for the piece of paper, doctor Vega snatched it back.

“You don’t want to touch this without gloves.”

Connor lingered in the room for a moment, worried what detective Reed might say about the pathologist telling him what to do. While he’d made progress when it came to interacting with androids, he knew that high-stress situations left the human detective more volatile than most. When nothing happened, he excused himself and left the room, trying to find more clues as to what had happened. To their victim, of course, but also to the nameless android.

_Stay upstairs._

_Go downstairs._

He remembered that when they first became aware of the android’s presence, they were upstairs and heard him before they saw him, which indicated that if he had any space for his own use, it had to be downstairs.

_Stay upstairs._

_**Go downstairs.** _

Aside from the hallway, there were three rooms there – looking from the front door, there was a spacious living room on the right, and on the left the kitchen and another room. Connor entered and his eyes widened slightly. A small bedroom, but cosy. A single, perfectly made bed covered with a green quilt, a small writing desk under the window, and on the window sill a row of withered plants in cheerful yellow pots. A night stand with a beat-up art deco lamp, and underneath it a fountain pen atop a well-thumbed notebook. Connor picked it up and opened it on the front page. It was a diary, belonging to Eric Lovelace. He glanced out of the window where the strange android waited, his body only a dark outline.

Every page contained a date and a few lines written in perfect CyberLife Sans. No, not quite perfect. Eric Lovelace seemed to draw little simplistic flowers instead of writing the letter o. The last entry was about a month old. Connor set down the diary again. His fingers left marks in the thick layer of dust clinging to the cover, which made him realise just how _abandoned_ the room was. Plants so withered and dry they might crumble at the lightest touch, stains on the worn carpet, dust covering every horizontal surface, and spiders, weaving their webs all around, unbothered. The way the room was decorated differed from the rest of the house, so evidently, Eric had to have a hand in that at some point.

But then something happened.

Something that made him the way he was now.

One possibility was that Eric’s present state had to do with what happened to Caroline Marsh, but Connor didn’t really believe that. Other than the obvious, the android didn’t show any signs of external injuries, that is to say, he didn’t seem to have come into close contact with an iron-cast pan like the corpse upstairs.

Another possible scenario was that Eric killed Caroline. To Connor that seemed unlikely, since the silent android didn’t display any signs of being capable of independent thought or action. And it wouldn’t explain his current condition.

The third one was only a hint of an idea – one that he quickly pushed aside, determined to avoid thinking about it just yet. Deviancy had already challenged the limits of what’s possible. An internal error causing a strange state of living death wasn’t something Connor had encountered before, but he couldn’t dismiss it outright. He didn’t know how that might be related to the dead human yet.

He just hoped it wouldn’t spread.

  
  


  
  


* * *

  
  


  
  


  
  


The victim was wearing a gold necklace and a ring with a diamond the size of Reed’s ego, and whoever stole the computer and the phone didn’t take the chargers, so the murder probably wasn’t a burglary gone wrong.

When Hank asked them, the technicians confirmed that they’d found traces of blood on the kitchen floor, as well as on one of the walls. Once the body was moved, they found out that the loose beads were a part of a rosary that was stuck under the victim. Hank noticed one Hail Mary bead was missing, but brushed it off. That little bead probably landed under a piece of furniture.

By the time they – Hank and Connor – made it home, it was closer to early morning than late night. Connor offered to drive. Hank offered to let him drive if he told him what Reed was doing there. So, naturally, Hank ended up behind the wheel.

Contrary to popular belief, lieutenant Anderson wasn’t an idiot. Something happened between Connor and detective Asshole in winter, but when he asked the android about it, Connor was uncharacteristically stingy with details. They seemed to be getting along better – friendly, even and on paper that should be good news, but Hank worried anyway. But then, he was Connor’s dad. Worrying was practically his job.

Connor went to his room only to find his bed occupied by about a metric ton of a snoring dog. In theory, he could wake the dog and coax him into letting Connor use his own bed, but that was just unrealistic. With a sigh meant for nobody in particular, he squeezed himself into what little space was left on the bed, and buried his face in Sumo’s fur.

What a day. He didn’t get to apologise to Gavin for grabbing his hand and if he brought it up now, the other might get angry with him for making a big deal out of it. What was worse, he was perfectly willing to apologise, but he couldn’t find it in himself to regret the action. In fact, he wanted to do it again. Wanting was a puzzling emotion. Like a feeling-shaped void waiting to be filled.

Connor was still learning to want things for himself, and detective Reed… Gavin might be one of those things.

He entered stasis, and didn’t even worry about the dog drooling on his arm.

  
  


  
  


* * *

  
  


  
  


Unlike most humans, doctor Vega never found the morgue particularly unsettling. She wasn’t human, so the place didn’t have any connotations for her, positive or negative – it was where she worked, nothing more.

She decided to go straight to work and get started on the autopsy while it was relatively quiet in the building. Since nobody knew what to do with the android – Eric Lovelace, detective Anderson said – she brought him along. He followed her placidly, allowing her to lead him by his sleeve. He was standing in the corner, staring ahead with unblinking eyes.

He wasn’t dead yet. He had no business being there.

Vega looked down at her arm. She didn’t consider herself a courageous person, but it was a pathologist’s job to know everything, even if it was usually too late. The skin on her arm disappeared, revealing white plastic underneath, and she cast a furtive glance at Eric. Interfacing was easier when both parties cooperated, but any system could be bypassed if you simply elected to avoid giving fucks.

Doctor Vega put her wrist against Eric’s.

  
  


  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was more about the case, but we'll be back to our regularly scheduled disaster couple next. Comments fuel me!


	3. Resisting Description

  


  
  


Someone might say it wasn’t a good idea for Gavin to come to work on eleven (accidental) minutes of sleep. And to that he’d say ‘fuck off, you’re not my mom’. He stormed into the office with the eyebags of a man who spent the entire night going down the rabbit hole of other people’s social media. Which fit because that was exactly the reason he hadn’t gotten any sleep.

He stomped towards lieutenant Anderson’s desk and slammed his hands on its glossy surface. “I know who the victim was. The name was familiar, so I looked into it, and, bingo.”

Hank leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest, looking the detective up and down. “Connor dug that up already.” He took a big sip of coffee from his ‘world’s best dad’ mug, maintaining eye contact the entire time. “And I don’t know what makes you think this is your case.”

“God, I hope you didn’t let him read her blog. That shit is vile.” Only then Hank’s words fully registered. “Wait, what the fuck are you talking about? You’re not about to sideline me here. Where’s Connor?”

Hank raised one eyebrow, looking thoroughly unimpressed. Huh. So that’s where the android got it from. Gavin glanced over his shoulder, seeking the other detective. He wouldn’t kick him out of his own case like that. There were _rules_. They found the corpse together and, well, finders keepers, right?

“Connor already has a partner, Reed, and it sure as hell isn’t you. If you’re this thirsty for work, go whine to Fowler.”

“What the fuck is your problem?” Hank wasn’t that hostile last night. What had changed since? When the reason suggested itself to Gavin, he was almost in the mind to laugh at how absurd it was. The only difference was, of course, that Connor wasn’t there. The lieutenant probably refrained from saying anything because he didn’t want to upset his son.

Hank finally got up from his chair and placed his hands on the top of the desk, head bent low, staring detective Reed down. “I don’t know how you convinced Connor you aren’t a total piece of shit, and I couldn’t care less. But I don’t trust you and I don’t want you anywhere near _my_ case.”

“You mean _Connor’s_ case,” he spat out. By the way Anderson’s eyes narrowed slightly he could tell he hit a sore spot. Technically speaking, the case involved an android, and all android-related cases had to go through Connor. Gavin didn’t know how to feel about that. On one hand, it was total and utter bullshit, while on the other hand, he knew how some people still felt about androids. He was… uncomfortably aware of that, really. He could see that having Connor keep an eye on those cases ensured that due diligence would be exercised.

He straightened up, shrugged, and turned around, making a show of leaving for his own desk. Then Gavin paused and, without looking at the lieutenant, said: “Try not to slow him down.”

Still peeved, he plopped into his own chair. If Anderson – either of them – thought he’d just bow out of the case, they had another thing coming. He could get all the pertinent info elsewhere. He paused, hands hovering over his keyboard. Could he? Really? Asking Nines was out of the question because he’d snitch. There were the CSIs, of course. He’d been there on the crime scene, so if he asked for details on the findings, it shouldn’t raise any eyebrows.

He got up again and headed to the break room, searching in his phone for the number he’d hoped to never have to use. A quick request for a video call, and then, waiting. So much waiting. The least Vega could do was to pick up the damn call. No response.

  
  


  
  


* * *

  
  


  
  


… _and while real people find fulfilment in service to God, androids reach it through service to us. This is their purpose, and they know it. We know our purpose too, and even amongst humans there are those who choose to ignore it. Since androids are created in our image, it’s only understandable that our imperfections would reflect in them, as well. But as their creators it is our duty to protect them from themselves…_

Gavin frowned at his phone and stuck it back into his pocket. About half of the victim’s social media entries were like that. The rest was mostly ads for essential oils and sentimental poetry, but apparently, she made some serious cash that way. She’d been very pretty when she was alive – that and bigotry appealed to a large enough demographic.  
He slipped out of the office to visit the morgue personally, though first he stopped for coffee. He got himself a double-shot espresso to go and, after some hesitation, asked for a latte with caramel syrup as well.

During the daytime, the morgue looked like any other workplace, and he quickly found doctor Vega in her office, which was just a glorified closet. There was only a desk, a computer with a printer, a chair, and a file cabinet. There was also a shredder tucked under the desk. No lights, but the doctor didn’t really need any, being her own lamp. Then Gavin noted, surprised, that somebody stuck up a couple of blue and pink glow-in-the-dark stars on the walls. The overall effect was very early 2000s and very… childlike, for the lack of a better term.

She was already working on what he hoped was the report regarding the Marsh case. He leaned against the door frame as he simply wouldn’t fit into the room otherwise and held out the second coffee to her.

“Do you drink?

“Socially,” the pathologist said, accepting the cup. “Am I being bribed, detective?”

“Is it working?”

Vega took a long sip. “A little bit. Is it about how you tried to call me earlier? I was elbows deep in the victim, and I assumed that you’d call again.” She looked him up and down. “Must’ve been really important for you to show up in person. If it’s about the autopsy report, I’m not finished with that yet. Had to wait for Alleyn to shadow me during the process, which blows, because I meant to get started the second I got here from the scene.”

Shit. “That’s one thing, but I could use the others’ reports too. Do you have access to them?”

“I’ve got something,” Vega conceded, crossing her arms over her chest. She leaned back in her seat, watching Gavin with something akin to suspicion. Only then he noticed a white patch underneath her right eye where the synthetic skin didn’t manifest quite correctly. “Why don’t you ask Connor, though?”

“Reasons. He went off on his own.” That was, strictly speaking, not a lie. Tense silence settled between them, and Vega turned back to the computer, typing down a few more words. “Look, I’m just trying to do my job here.”

“Is anyone looking into what happened to Eric?”

“Tell me what we’re supposed to investigate. Is it a murder? An accident? Can’t do shit here if I know fuck-all about what’s up with that.” Having gone through Caroline Marsh’s social media accounts, he wasn’t surprised she owned… _employed_ an android, but he was shocked there was one willing to work for her. “Marsh is dead. That I can work with. Who knows, these two things could be related.” Even to him, it sounded like bullshit. Some human officers showed a disturbing tendency to lose about half of their IQ points the second they were expected to investigate an android-related crime. For some of them, it meant they dropped to the level of the dumber of fungi. The problem was that he genuinely didn’t know how to approach that part of the case, and he did hope it would come up during the investigation. But Vega looked unconvinced. He couldn’t blame her.

“I think you’re full of shit. No way I’m bypassing the official channels over this, but-”

_Shit_ , but this time with feeling. Under normal circumstances, he’d already get snappy, but he wasn’t dumb enough to antagonise any of the DPD’s experts. “Look, Vega, I don’t like you, and you don’t like me-”

“I never said I didn’t like you, I just said I think you’re full of shit. But let me finish. I interfaced with Eric. Well, tried to. Something happened.” The pathologist paused, then turned back to the detective. “I believe he was trying to show me something, but I had to cut it off, because it was like… I don’t know what the human equivalent would be. It was. Bad.”

“Bad,” Gavin repeated flatly.

“Some experiences resist description in human terms. That’s not even relevant right now. What I’m trying to tell you is that Eric is alive in some restricted, improbable way. Or rather, not dead.” She looked up, studying the plastic stars on the ceiling, her lips a stiff line. “Based on what I’ve gathered before I cut off the connection, he had been there when the murder took place.”

A few drops of lukewarm coffee spilt and ran down his fingers when he squeezed his cup a little too tightly. “Do you know if he did it?”

“The best I can give you is ‘I don’t think so’.” When he looked past the eerily glowing eyes, he could see the android looked exhausted in a way that had nothing to do with a lack of sleep. For a second, he wondered what made her decide to get, of all things, this upgrade. She sighed. “Give me your phone.”

When he did so, she put her wrist over his phone. “I’ll give you what I’ve got. Don’t make me regret it.”

He took his old beat-up Nokia back and scrolled through the photos Vega transferred to it. The first thing that caught his eye was a yellow piece of paper the victim had been clutching in her hand when they found her, the one with the words ‘extra fries’ scrawled on it. There was another shot, also from Vega’s point of view – the same paper, but turned around. Gavin could just barely make out a part of an address, neatly printed on the glossy surface. What about it could be so important that the victim was holding it for dear life while that same life leaked out of her drop of blood at a time?

“Thanks. I owe you one,” he said, though he was barely paying attention at that point. That was because he was already writing a text to Connor. He started several times, unsure how to approach this given his position in this particular case. Eventually, he settled on:

_> Want to go for a work-related walk? I promise it’s gonna suck._

  
  


  
  


* * *

  
  


  
  


The exhaustion didn’t yet catch up with Gavin. He was happy, he was alert, he was full of energy, he was moisturised, he was on his seventh coffee before lunchtime. He was _fine_ , Connor. The android agreed to accompany him to take a look around the area indicated by the piece of paper – it was rundown in that depressing way that spoke of ambition gone stale and underfunded good intentions. Not exactly a backdrop for a lifestyle vlog.

Neither spoke much, even though Gavin was practically vibrating due to all that caffeine. It was slowly dawning on him that the inevitable crash would be a thing of legends. He decided to add that to the ‘to be ignored’ pile, next to his more unproductive feelings regarding the android sent by CyberFuckMyShitUp, and his half-brother’s all too frequent e-mails.

“You lied to me, detective,” Connor said out of nowhere. He wasn’t looking at Gavin when he said that, but his posture was relaxed. Well, as relaxed as Connor could get, which wasn’t very relaxed at all. Still, he was getting the hang of it.

“Sounds like me. What did I lie about?”

“You promised me that this would suck, but it doesn’t.” He cracked a smile and – not for the first time, no sir – Gavin felt personally attacked by the perfect android’s perfect freckles and perfect crescent moon dimples. He still remembered all too clearly how their hands fit together, even though that memory was tainted with the horrors of last night. His eyes wandered to Connor’s LED, and he had to suppress a shudder when he imagined him in the other android’s place. Eric. That was the name he picked – or the name picked for him? Gavin wasn’t sure about how names worked for androids. How a… a worrying number of things worked for androids. Where did Connor get _his_ name, anyway?

“It’s about the new case, so it’s bound to suck, if I’m right. And I’m always right.” He showed Connor the pictures of that piece of paper. “This could give us a lead, if we’re lucky.” He paused, Hank’s earlier words echoing in his ears. “And if you want me on this case. I won’t drop it either way, but I’d rather if… I know you’ve got Hank already, but this case is a lot.” Gavin rubbed the back of his neck, his face heating up, as if though he was asking Connor to prom or some cheesy shit like that.

He felt a light, tentative touch as Connor reached for his free hand and squeezed his fingers softly. Just as quickly, he let go, leaving Gavin wondering if he didn’t just imagine that brief closeness after all.

“Gavin, I’ve been thinking and-”

But before Connor could finish, Gavin spotted a yellow poster, and a stack of glossy yellow leaflets in the shop window of a hardware store. “That’s the bitch! Let’s go.”

Without thinking, he grabbed Connor’s elbow, and dragged him across the street. Maybe this case needed some ‘extra fries’, whatever that meant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m aware there was a bit of a delay between chapters, but here’s the tea: I have to work faster than my self-doubt and sometimes I’m too slow. Bone apple tea! Also, I think Gavin should maybe hang out with more androids. Get some perspective. Learn things.  
> (Vega comes with lore. It’s tragic, and irrelevant, so it’s not going to come up.)


End file.
